


The Ghost of You

by PausePlayRepeat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15719679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PausePlayRepeat/pseuds/PausePlayRepeat
Summary: After the Galaxy Garrison and Voltron defeat Sendak's forces, Shiro has time to grieve.





	The Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I felt Shiro needed some closure. The lyrics throughout are from Sam Smith's song "Palace," which I own no rights to.

_*******************************************************************************************************_

_My head is filled with ruins_

_Most of them are built with you_

_Now the dust no longer moves_

_Don’t disturb the ghost of you_

******************************************************************************************************

Even as the world crumbled and shook around them, the walls of the Galaxy Garrison were exactly the same as Shiro had always remembered. No matter how many officers ran through its halls, dashing to take up arms against Sendak’s forces or refugees huddled together safe from the harms of the outside, it was still the same home that had settled into Shiro’s bones since he was fourteen years old. During the first few days of their return, during the attack from Sendak’s forces, the Garrison and all its familiar cracks and crevices had been nearly the only source of comfort to Shiro during the fitfully few hours he tried to sleep. But once they had won the upper hand and freed the people of Earth from the iron clasp of the Galra, the walls began to take on a more oppressive tone.

In the precious few moments he had between meetings with Garrison officials and Voltron Alliance leaders, construction on the surrounding city, repairs to the Atlas and Voltron, and Allura’s adjustments to his new arm, Shiro found himself straying to the memorial wall of all those lost in the fight against Sendak’s invasion. Without even really trying, his eyes always came to rest on one name. Although there were many that he knew, many faces that struck through his heart, there was only one that managed to pierce his soul no matter how many times he roved over each of the letters, the kind smile and gentle eyes that adorned the face he had loved so many years ago burning a hole through his chest.

“Adam.”

The name slipped past his lips without any intent, whispered to no one but the hundreds of other faces surrounding him and the thin sheen of dust nearly immobile in the air, caught only by the yellowed lights overhead. Shiro lifted his human hand to Adam’s small plaque and ran his thumb against the cool metal, clearing it of the fine particles that had come to settle against it.

How long had it been since Adam had joined so many of their other friends and classmates on this wall? How long had he waited there, fixed in time, without Shiro knowing? Without him to mourn him, to cherish and grieve the life he might have had? Shiro knew that Adam was like him- an orphan of the third world war, drifting with no family to remember him, no one to keep his spirit alive after he had passed. He and Shiro were the only loved ones the other had, and even if Adam had moved on after Shiro left, he had no idea of how to confirm this, or how to contact them, just to make sure Adam would be loved even after his life ended. The idea of Adam alone, especially in death, was nearly too much from Shiro to bear to think about.

Standing solitary in the old recreation room, with its high vaulted ceiling and starkly empty walls, Shiro felt as though he was on an alien planet. He had been there hundreds of times before, but the space was now unfamiliar, ruins of a place he had perhaps only visited in the dreams he had once had for his life. And it was here in this wreckage that Adam would stay forever, his young face frozen in a moment of happiness, an expression that Shiro knew his ex-fiancé would never again hold.

“Adam,” he whispered again, swallowing thickly at a lump rising in his throat.

_‘I’m so sorry you’re here and I’m not with you.’_

He couldn’t bring himself to utter those words aloud.

****************************************************************************************************

_They are empty, they are worn_

_Tell me what we built this for_

_On my way to something more_

_You’re that one I can’t ignore_

*****************************************************************************************************

Shiro wasn’t sure that he heard a word of what was discussed during the meeting later that afternoon. Sam Holt had come to collect him, gently leading him away from the silent tomb and into the now too suffocating halls of the Garrison.

_“Shiro,” he’d said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time for the meeting with the rest of the officers and the paladins. I didn’t want to interrupt, but Iverson couldn’t let us wait any longer. We need to figure out what to do.”_

_As Shiro had turned around, Sam caught his other shoulder in his grip, and he had winced slightly at how close his hand was to the glow of his new arm. But Sam didn’t appear to notice and considered him, eyes gently connecting with his own._

_“Shiro, listen… you’ve saved my skin so many times over the years. When I thought that Katie and the rest of you had died during Voltron’s fight with Lotor, I didn’t know for a while if I could take it. But Colleen, Matt, and the work in the fight here kept me going.” He paused, glancing slightly at the wall. “But as much as things are still hectic, we’re not as busy as we were, and I think you and I both know that too much downtime can mess with your head. If you need anything from me in the weeks and months to come, you let me know, okay? I’m here for you, kiddo.”_

Shiro had had to hold back the prickle of tears that had threatened to spill as Sam had led him out of the memorial room, and now, as he sat in the officers’ meeting, he felt the same flood walls beginning to crack. The topic of the meeting had started with the typical status reports on the Garrison, defense development, and rebuilding of the surrounding civilian area, but had quickly turned to the pressing issue Shiro knew was the true cause for the session. Immediately he felt Keith’s eyes bore into him from the seat next to him the moment Iverson began to speak.

“We need to determine what should be done with our latest round of civilian and Garrison casualties, as well as form a team to scout out the surrounding area to search for survivors and remains.” Iverson turned toward the large screen aloft in the center of the front wall. Video feed from the large, empty stretch of desert beyond the Garrison showed the old wreckage of fighter planes, burned and decimated, half buried in the dust from the sheer length of time they had been left exposed to the elements. Shiro felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and his insides turn to ice.

“During the initial wave of attacks from Galra invading forces, we were unable to conduct search, rescue, and retrieval of our men and women as per usual protocol due to the danger of lowering the Garrison’s partical barrier shields.” Iverson stopped, looking around the room with a sentimental glance around the room.

Shiro felt the nausea begin to rise in his throat and the hot pinpricks of tears begin to form at the edges of his eyes, and stared pointedly at his lap. Keith’s gaze, though he couldn’t see it, was still fixed on him. He had gotten used to the feeling of Keith’s glances.

Iverson’s voiced softened with the last words Shiro comprehended for the rest of the meeting. “I think it’s time we brought them home.”

The only thing he was aware of for the rest of the meeting was Keith’s hand resting lightly on his leg as the rest of his brain cut off all his other emotions.

*********************************************************************************************************

_I’m gonna miss you_

_I’m still there_

*********************************************************************************************************

When Keith leaned in and whispered softly in his ear that the meeting was over, Shiro stood and left the room as quickly as he could without seeming too suspicious, keeping his gaze trained firmly on the floor. He hoped that Keith would understand, feeling implicitly that he would. But as he stalked hurriedly toward the room in the infirmary he’d be catching too few hours of sleep in several wings away, a voice called out to him to stop.

Why couldn’t he just be allowed a moment’s peace?

“Captain Shirogane!”

It was Iverson, half running down the hall, to catch up with him down the deserted corridor. Considering Iverson likely had to stay behind to discuss any questions and other matters with the officers after the meeting’s closure, Shiro was surprised that he had managed to catch up to him. A small nibbling in his heart wished desperately that he hadn’t.

“Captain,” he said slightly out of breath, closing the distance between them, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Shiro didn’t want to listen to anything that Iverson had to say. The images flashed on the screen of the wreckage of the planes, the idea of whatever was left of Adam’s body laying cradled in one of them, or worse, there being no body left to bring back, no pieces of him to bury, to let Shiro visit, the only pieces of him left the memories that now haunted Shiro in every quiet moment. But he steeled his face into an, if not exactly welcoming, smile, knowing that he can’t let Iverson catch onto those thoughts. He needed to keep it together.

“Of course, Professor. What is it?” Shiro hoped that his tone didn’t sound as forced as it felt.

Iverson hesitated for a moment looking deeply uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t sure how to say what was on his mind. When he finally did, Shiro understood why. He wouldn’t know how to say it either.

“Captain….Takashi. I know you’ve been staying in the infirmary for the last few days since the defeat of Sendak’s forces, but now that his armies have retreated, you might want an actual quarters.” He shifted his gaze away and spoke softly when he continued, far more so than Shiro had ever heard him speak. “I wanted to let you know that we haven’t cleared out Adam’s room yet.”

Shiro’s windpipe was suddenly swollen shut as Iverson plowed on talking. _‘Keep it together.’_

“I know that the two of you haven’t been together for a few years, but seeing as you were his fiancé, you’re the closest he has to any remaining family.” Iverson squeezed both of Shiro’s shoulders, catching an already dizzy Shiro off guard. “Adam didn’t leave any type of will. It used to be your quarters as well, and if you’d like it back, or any of the contents within it, they’re yours.”

The mask Shiro had crafted mere moments ago must have slipped, betraying the tumultuous emotions just beneath the surface, because Iverson slid his hands down Shiro’s arms to grip his wrists firmly, giving him a gentle look.

“You don’t have to decide right now. But just let me know in the next few days. If not, we’ll get you another room and work on clearing it out.”

He gulped, trying to force air back into his lungs.

“Yes sir.”

*****************************************************************************************************

_Yeah I know just what you’re saying_

_And I regret ever complaining_

_About this heart and all its breaking_

_It was beauty we were making_

******************************************************************************************************

The room was almost exactly as Shiro had remembered it the last time he had been it, a couple weeks before the launch of the Kerberos mission. Every pile of papers, stack of books, and picture frame was right where it had been. Shiro smiled to himself. As meticulous as he was about his living space, Adam had always been worse, not resting until everything was just as he wanted it to be, sometimes despite Shiro’s pleas for them to go to bed.

For as often as he chastised Adam for being uptight about his cleaning, it was something he had missed fiercely during his time imprisoned; He had kept himself sane in those early months, though admittedly usually during hazy consciousness, thinking that any moment Adam might walk into his cell and tell him that it simply wouldn’t do and he would start to clean both the dingy room and Shiro just in the way he always had. He had longed for it far more than he could ever really admit to anyone, especially now. He felt that, in a way, he had lost that right the moment he decided to leave Adam behind to go on the mission- if he hadn’t, perhaps he never would have been imprisoned in the first place. But there wasn’t any use dwelling on such thoughts now, at least not any use that wouldn’t involve him pitying himself, and that was something he refused to do.

Slowly, Shiro began to move about the space, taking in the items decorating the walls and the tops of shelves. Most of them were the same pictures and awards that had inhabited the small room when he lived there too. Some of them were awards that Shiro had won, but had forgotten to take with him when he had hastily moved out after their final argument. It had been just a week and a half before he’d left for the mission. Why did Adam still keep all of them? He supposed that Adam might’ve felt guilty throwing them away, but it didn’t explain why he kept them out on display. He could have just as easily packed them away, out of sight.

The laughing faces of himself and Adam caught his eye, gleaming up at him from behind dusty glass and a dustier frame. Shiro picked up the picture from the night stand on the side of bed, sat down, and clicked on the small lamp that rested beside it. He ran his thumb over it, wiping the light grime away.

It was Shiro’s favorite picture the two of them had ever taken together. As muddled as his head had sometimes become after his time as a prisoner, he remembers that morning clearly. Both of them had donned their new charcoal uniforms, grinning ear to ear as Professor Holt insisted he get a picture of their first day as Junior Officers. Adam had told Shiro that his smile during pictures always resembled more of a grimace than an actual smile, so moments before Sam snapped the picture, Adam had blown a loud, wet raspberry kiss against his cheek, catching him off guard and making him laugh.

Shiro felt his lips stretch into a small grin, and a feeling of warmth spread through his. That moment had been one of the happiest of his life. They had been blissful without complication, excited for all that the future was about to hold for them. The ace pilots of their class, there was nothing that could stand between them and the universe as they set foot out of the restrictive world of academics and into their roles as full-fledged members of the Garrison staff. And, arms around each other, Shiro had never loved Adam more. Shiro felt the same sick feeling that had threatened him all day rise up again.

But nothing had panned out the way he had thought it would, and now he was here alone, in the room that still held all of his and Adam’s most precious memories.

Still holding the picture, Shiro gently kicked off his shoes, and leaned back onto the still made up bed, pulling his legs up toward him. He rested his head against the pillow and tried to pull in the familiar scent of Adam that he knew he would recognize after all these, but there was nothing left but the musty smell of cloth left too long in the sun. For some reason, that snapped the band that Shiro had just then realized had been held too tightly in his chest all day.

*****************************************************************************************

_And I know we’ll both move on_

_You’ll forgive what I did wrong_

_They will love the better you_

_But I still own the ghost of you_

********************************************************************************************

Shiro wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a soft knock on the door brought him back to the present moment. He didn’t turn around to face the door, but didn’t have to wait long to know who had come for him when he heard the door open slowly and a voice call out tentatively.

“Shiro?”

He could hear Keith close the door quietly and pad over toward the bed. Keith sat down on the edge gently, resting a hand on Shiro’s hip.

“Are you awake, Shiro? Iverson told me you might be here.” He almost whispered the words, as if afraid to wake Shiro up in case he was asleep. Shiro had never been a heavy sleeper to begin with, and Keith had been on the receiving end of a couple of nasty punches thrown in panicked stupors when he’d accidentally woken Shiro up too abruptly after his time as a Galra prisoner. Not that Keith had ever held it against him.

Shiro cracked his eyes open, still facing away from the other paladin. He could tell instantly that the sun had gone down, the light in the room now dimmed down to the single lamp at the bedside.

“Yes, I’m awake.” His voice sounded weary and strained, a voice that he would only ever allow Keith to hear. It was all he could manage to get out.

Seeming to sense Shiro’s mood, Keith wordlessly slid down on the bed, mirroring Shiro’s earlier actions by kicking off his shoes with a little more force than necessary, and pulled his legs up to bracket the back of Shiro’s. Shiro wiggled over to give him more room, and Keith wrapped an arm around Shiro’s chest, pulling him in to spoon him. Shiro had never been more thankful for Keith’s closeness.

Keith spread his palm flat against Shiro’s heart, feeling it thudding in his chest, and spoke gently into the back of his neck where his head had come to nestle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Shiro tensed. The thing was, that as much as Shiro desperately wanted to purge every uneasy thought, every feeling of guilt, of sorrow, and regret, he didn’t know how. How could such a tangled knot of emotions even start to ease? Where was he supposed to begin? There was no way to talk about the depth of grief that he felt; He didn’t even know if there was a word for the feeling that had settled itself into his chest. He had built a life with Adam, and felt that whole life crash around him in an instant. Even when they had separated, he took small comfort in knowing that when they returned he would be able to apologize to Adam for every terrible thing he’d ever said to him, for every time he placed his work over their relationship, for all of the heartbreak that he know he’d put him through, or at the very least see his face again. He didn’t expect that they would get back together, nor had he wanted to- whatever this thing he had with starting with Keith was a promising bud of a chance to do things over, to do things right, and he and Adam had grown apart in all the years he had been gone. But now, seeing Adam’s room, he had the terrible thought that perhaps Adam had never moved on, had never sought another love to fill the hole Shiro knew he must have left in his heart. And he would never be able to apologize for that. Adam had died alone.

He opened his mouth to try to find the words to begin to explain this to Keith, but all that he managed to choke out was a half formed sob. The rubber band in his chest exploded again, and with it a flood of hot tears forced their way out. When Shiro finally allowed them to fall in earnest, he realized that he couldn’t make them stop. Keith only held him tighter as he began to sputter.

“I’m never going to get a chance to tell Adam how sorry I am,” he managed to gasp out. He felt Keith slide his arm out from around his chest and more it run his hand through Shiro’s hair, sweeping it back gently from his forehead. “He died thinking that my missions were always more important than he was. I did that to him and now I can never make it right.”

Shiro knew that he might have sounded unintelligible, his voice thickened with the hot emotions working their way up this throat, clawing their way out. But Keith just continued to stroke his hair and didn’t interrupt him.

“I was all he had, and now he’s laying out in that desert. There might not even be anything of him left to bring back. He’ll be on that wall all alone forever, Keith. That’s all that’s left of his life, and now I feel it in every piece of the Garrison, like it’s some sort of tomb. I don’t even feel like I have the right to be upset with the way I left things between us.”

On top of everything, a fresh realization of guilt washed itself over Shiro, causing him to cry even harder. “And I shouldn’t be troubling you with this. I want to be with you, Keith, but I just thought I’d have a chance to close things with Adam, to apologize. I’m so, so sorry.”

Shiro wasn’t sure how Keith would respond. Their relationship was still tender and new, starting only after he had returned from the Black Lion. Keith had refused to let him sleep alone, afraid that he might die in his sleep, afraid his soul would be rejected again from his new body. Slowly, it had morphed into holding each other close and soft kisses, an acknowledgement of both of their attraction and bond to one another since embarking on the mission with Voltron. Even though Keith knew full well of his relationship with Adam, he didn’t know how he would feel about Shiro talking about him like this.

But Keith only turned him over so that he was facing him and held his palm to his face, uncomfortably red and stained with tears.

“Shiro,” he said, still in a quiet voice. “It’s okay. It’s okay to miss Adam. And it’s okay to wish he was here. You were together a long time. I know how important you were to each other.”

Keith moved his hand down to rub along Shiro’s upper arm. “I miss him too,” he said, smiling a fraction of an inch. “I never told you, but when you were gone on missions, he bailed me out from a few fights. He told me to tell you I’d been an angel while you were gone, but I think we all knew that wasn’t the truth. He was just too much of a gentleman to break it to you."

Shiro let out a weak chuckle at this. Keith smiled more broadly, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the forehead before continuing. “It’s okay to miss Adam,” he said again. “And I think he would want to know that you still cared. I think he probably did know, even after you left.”

He paused, looking Shiro in the eye, seriously. “I love you, Shiro, but you need some time to grieve. You don’t have to worry. Let it out. However long you need, I’ll be here for you. So don’t apologize to me for it.” Keith sat up, and for a split second Shiro mourned the loss of contact before Keith maneuvered him upright as well.

Slowly, as if asking for permission, Keith unbuttoned Shiro’s officer’s jacket and eased it off of him, folded it, and set it on the bedside table. Tenderly, he picked up the picture still laying on the bed next to Shiro and laid it atop Shiro’s uniform. Understanding, Shiro deactivated his arm and set it aside the bed as Keith tugged off his own jacket and reached over to douse the light. Settling back down in the darkness, Shiro snuggled his head into the crook of Keith neck. Although he was no longer wracked with sobs, he felt the tears begin to roll down his cheeks again.

Gently, Keith ran his thumb over them clearing them away before bending down to kiss him chastely on the lips. Shiro kissed him back, even though he knew it must feel awkward and half formed.

“Get some sleep, okay Shiro?”

Not trusting himself, Shiro nodded his head and whispered, “Thank you, Keith. I love you.”

“I love you too, Shiro.”

Shiro closed his eyes, but didn’t fall asleep immediately. As he lay there, held in Keith’s embrace in the quiet, he decided that he would tell Iverson in the morning to find him another room. He would keep the pictures, and all of Adam’s various medals as well as some of the other trinkets he knew Adam was especially fond of. He knew that this may be the only and best chance he would get to apologize. Though he was never religious, he prayed that wherever Adam was, he would know that he was sorry. That he still cared about him, that he wouldn’t let the memory of him die. He hoped it would be enough. Something within him told him that Adam would think so. Perhaps it was just a selfish wish.

But he couldn’t stay in this room, not with all of the memories it held. He wanted to do things over, to be able to give Keith all the things all the things he was too selfish to give Adam. He hoped Adam would want him to love his new partner the way he couldn't love him, to do it properly. He never wanted Keith to feel like he was second best, and he felt that Adam would want to, even if not for Shiro, for Keith. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not even in the next year. But he hoped Adam would be alright if he tried to eventually let him go.

 _‘But just for tonight, Adam,’_ he thought as he drifted to sleep, _‘I still own the ghost of you.’_

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Vomited this out in a haze of post season 7 feelings. I'm both Voltron and Sam Smith trash.


End file.
